


the way you keep the world at bay for me

by airbefore



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:27:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airbefore/pseuds/airbefore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But waking up slowly, cocooned in his warmth, his soft, steady exhalations drifting across her neck and shoulders - this is her favorite part of the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the way you keep the world at bay for me

He claims her body in his sleep, unconsciously wrapping himself around her, pulling her down, holding her close. She’s never been one to cuddle, much preferring to sprawl her body across the bed, taking the space she’s too reserved to claim in her waking hours. But waking up slowly, cocooned in his warmth, his soft, steady exhalations drifting across her neck and shoulders - this is her favorite part of the day.

“Morning.” His voice is rough, thick with sleep, and she shivers as it wraps around her, another layer keeping her warm, safe.

“Mmm, morning,” she replies, sinking further into him. He tightens the arm at her waist, slips the other under her neck and across her chest, pulling her in close. “How’d you know I was awake?”

“Your breathing changed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into her hair. His body is loose and liquid against her back, filling in her dips and curves, leaving her whole and contented.

So much of their lives are spent in perpetual motion, running from crime scenes to interviews to meetings to dinners. They are constantly in flux; caught up in the chaos of her job, the obligations of his. Moments like this are rare, precious. She savors the feeling, stores it deep in her mind. When she feels overwhelmed, stressed, angry with the world, she’ll pull out these memories, let herself get lost inside the peaceful quiet of mornings spent in his arms.

“We have to get up soon,” she sighs, her tone low and resigned. She really doesn’t want to leave this, him.

“Hm. Still have,” he lifts his head, peers over her shoulder at the clock on the nightstand, squinting his eyes to bring the glowing red digits into focus, “twenty six minutes.” She hears the gentle whoosh of his head landing on the pillow, feels the current of air rustle through her hair. “Go back to sleep.”

“Awake now,” she hums, kissing his forearm where it rests between her breasts. “Might as well get up.”

She shifts her body away from him, moves to extricate herself from the tangle of sheets and limbs. He growls in her ear, clamps his arms down around her. She laughs, lets him tug her firmly into his chest.

“Stay.”

A sarcastic retort dies on her lips when she rolls over, catches sight of him. His face is relaxed, the lines and furrows around his eyes lost to repose, the edges of his lips curling with just the slightest hint of a smile, his ruffled hair dancing along his brow. She runs the pad of her thumb along the gentle bow of his bottom lip and his eyes slide open, soft and impossibly blue.

“Stay.” It’s softer this time, a plea. “Just for a minute.”

She kisses the underside of his jaw, smiles against his skin. His cheek comes to rest on top of her head, a gentle weight that gives her an odd sort of comfort.

“We’re seeing your mother and Alexis for dinner tonight, right?” She keeps her voice low, barely more than a whisper, not quite willing to break the spell. He nods against the top of her head, fingers combing smoothly through her hair. “And they’re both bringing dates?” She chuckles softly into his chest when he groans.

“Why’d you have to bring that up?” He draws his head back and looks down at her with narrowed eyes, a smile hiding behind the false anger. “I was very successfully avoiding thinking about it.”

“It’s not going to be that bad, Castle,” she chides, lightly swatting at his bare chest with the fingers of one hand.

“Not that bad? Do you not remember the last time my mother brought a -” he pauses and closes his eyes, searching, she knows, for the word that will cause him the least amount of physical discomfort.

“Lover?” She supplies, giggling as his body shudders against her.

“If you have any desire for me to be physically capable of having sex with you at _any_ point in the future,” he looks down at her, brow furrowed, mouth in an exaggerated pout, “you will refrain from using that word in relation to my mother ever again.” He flops over onto his back, dragging her along with him. “Oh my God. Get it out of my head.” She scoots closer to him, wraps her body around his.

“It’s nice that she has an active -”

“If you say ‘sex life’ you are going to lose the right to see me naked for at least the next three months.”

“Social life, you big baby. It’s nice that she has an active social life.”

“You didn’t have to live with that active social life for the better part of your formative years.” He wraps one hand around the thigh she’s thrown over his hips, the other coasting up and down her back, warm palm pressed against her curved spine. She sighs and rests her head on his chest, her hair spilling over his broad shoulder, the ends rustling softly against the pillowcase.

“You can complain all you want,” she twists her fingers gently into his chest hair, tugs, “but we all know you love her, social life and all.”

“Except for when she comes over, drinks all the good wine and then tells you horribly embarrassing stories about my childhood,” he pouts. “I hope you don’t believe everything she says. If that one woman play,” she can hear the air quotes in his tone, presses her smile into his chest, “taught us anything, it’s that my mother is highly skilled in the art of hyperbole.”

“I don’t know, Castle,” she replies, propping her chin up on his chest. His head is turned toward her, eyes closed, cheek pressed into the soft down pillow. She reaches up, drags her fingers across the stubble on his jaw, takes him in. Seeing him like this, quiet and peaceful and still, always gives her pause, makes her chest ache. Beautiful man. “In vino veritas, after all.”

“You certainly have the vino part right,” he presses his lips to her forehead, cracks an eye open, glances at the clock again. “Now hush. I’d like to spend the next twenty one minutes _not_ thinking about my mother and her nightlife.”

“We can talk about Alexis’ new boyfriend instead,” she offers, laughing when he lets out another pained groan.

“Are you _trying_ to kill me? Is that what this is?” He looks down at her, his features schooled into mock outrage.

Using the leg over his hip as leverage, Kate pushes herself up and rolls, draping her body over his. She pulls him into a slow, languid kiss, her tongue sliding lazily across his lips. Moaning his approval, Castle lets his hand roam, palms coasting over her bare back and legs, fingers dipping under the waistband of her soft cotton panties. She can feel him straining against his boxers, hot and hard against her thigh.

Pushing up on her arms, she hovers over him, the morning light filtering softly through the golden brown curtain of her hair. She drops her hips to his and rolls, feels him twitch under her. Smiling wickedly, she meets his eye and starts a slow slide down his body, her breasts and hair brushing lightly over his chest, her lips and tongue following hot in their wake.

Castle’s breathing is labored by the time she reaches his hips, her tongue trailing along the elastic band of his boxers. She cups him through the thin silk, feels him throbbing against her palm. Dropping her head, she places her mouth directly over him, letting her hot breath drift through the slit in his boxers. He twitches under her and she smiles, looks up to catch his eye.

“If I was going to try to kill you, Castle,” she says breathily, dropping her voice to a husky growl, “I’d pick a much more enjoyable method.”

Kate lowers her head and runs her tongue underneath the hem of his boxers, skirting over the tense muscles of his thigh. Then, with a quickness she hadn’t thought herself capable of first thing in the morning, she rolls off the bed and starts a slow saunter toward the bathroom.

“Seriously?” Castle groans, his eyes sliding open slowly, full of lust and need. He rolls his head, his eyes tracking her movements, disbelief and hunger painted on his face. “That’s just cruel, Beckett.”

Laughing, Kate stops at the threshold to the bathroom and shimmies out of her underwear before turning to face him, the scrap of electric blue cotton hanging off one finger.

“You coming, Castle?”

She smiles as he bolts out of the bed, feet catching on the sheets in his haste, and trips his way across the room. He crashes into her giggling form and scoops her up against his chest, both arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

“I certainly hope so,” he growls, kissing her neck. “But we better hurry. We only have eighteen minutes.”

“No,” she whispers, her lips grazing across his ear as he carries her into the shower, “we have the rest of our lives.”


End file.
